


Common Connection

by stydiapanic



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-12 17:32:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11741865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stydiapanic/pseuds/stydiapanic
Summary: When Spencer arrived to visit his mom at the facility that day, he didn't exactly expect his day to turn out the way it had.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've found that I really identify with Spencer in certain aspects of our childhoods and parentage. This is supposed to be sort of in a Y/N format, but I wrote it in third person since it follows my personal experience and isn't exactly relatable to everyone reading. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Spencer was making his way out of his mom's facility when he first saw her, crying on the bench leading up to the front doors. She was too young to be a patient here. He stooped in front of the bench. "Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes full of genuine concern. 

"Oh, I- yeah, I'm just, just fine," she laughed without humor, "Sorry, it's not funny. It's just my dad. But it's always been my dad, I'll be okay, you don't have to listen to me." She looked at him then, noting the dark circles under his eyes, the knowing look. She thought that this man had been haunted by something for years. Maybe the same thing that was haunting her. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah, I don't-" she attempted to wipe the tears from her face but more followed right after. "I don't even know you, you don't have any obligation to help me. I'll be f-"

"I'm Spencer," he said, holding out his hand. 

She hesitated, drying her hand on her jeans before reaching out to him. "I'm Y/N. Sorry for getting my tears on you." 

He smiled uneasily. Looking at her now, it was clear she was younger than he'd thought. "Sorry, but, do you mind if I ask... how old are you?" 

"Twenty," she replied. He came to sit next to her on the bench then, thinking that no one should have to go through so much at only twenty years old. Though, heaven knows he had as well. 

"My mom has schizophrenia," he offered.

"Oh, hey, my dad has schizotypal. Is schizotypal? I'm not really sure of the proper grammar..." Spencer stayed silent, urging her to continue on. "He, uh,...  He's only been here a month. And it's safe to say he's not handling it well. He's got three siblings and his mom but he only confides to me, the twenty year old daughter who can't actually do anything... just, the older I get, the harder it gets to deal with, you know?"

"That type of disorder is genetic...," Spencer said almost to himself, guessing what her thought process might be. "And he was diagnosed at...?" 

"Twenty one," she said. 

Spencer's heart broke a little bit for her. He had just passed the age marker for schizophrenia, having just barely escaped what she was clearly going through now. And he didn't know what the hell to say that would be the least bit helpful. "It's, um, fairly unlikely that you'd contract it, if it helps. Most personality disorders can be traced back to environmental causes." 

"Environmental, as in being raised by someone with a psychopathology?" she countered, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"You got me there." 

She smiled the slightest bit, and Spencer noticed that at least he had been able to stop her crying. It struck him how much he didn't want to stop talking to her- something told him that they'd had a lot of experiences in common. 

"I just turned thirty one. Schizophrenia usually presents itself between the ages of sixteen and thirty. I know I'm not that good at offering support but... I've been where you are. If it helps. I know how it feels." 

She sniffled. "It does, a little bit. And you're right, I know, I probably wont get it, it's just that-" 

"It's just that you're getting dangerously close to finding out for sure. You don't have to explain it to me." The look in his eyes was so soft it almost hurt her to look at. 

"Thank you," she said. "I know this is a really weird way to meet someone, and definitely not the best first impression, but... would you want to go to lunch or something? And we can keep talking?" Asking a beautiful man to lunch in the entryway to her father's psych ward wasn't exactly what she'd expected from today, but she couldn't deny the connection she felt. They both shared an understanding that no one else in their lives could truly process. 

"Yeah," he said, a smile spreading across his face that made her feel like her veins were full of sunshine, "I would like that." 


	2. Chapter 2

"So, is this how you normally meet women?" she asked, the both of you seated at her favorite nearby cafe, "Crying in public?" 

"I don't normally meet a lot of women," Spencer stated matter-of-factly.

She paused. "You know that makes you sound like a weirdo, right?"

"Sorry. I work for the FBI. Between being called away on cases and being there for my mom, I kind of don't have time to go out and socialize."

"Right. Of course. Sorry," she began.  "So, the FBI. That's gotta be, um, cool." 

"Cool?" 

She laughed nervously. "I don't know, I honestly couldn't think of how that might be." 

"It's... rewarding. Difficult. But I joined the BAU when I was twenty four, so I haven't done much else. What about you?"

"Well, I just graduated university-" 

"At twenty?" 

"Nineteen. I guess I should stop saying 'just' since it's been nearly a year... Anyway, I work as a TA now at the local college." 

"Jeez, what are you, some kind of genius?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

"Maybe a little bit," she half smiled. "But I didn't join the behavioral analysis unit at twenty four now did I?" 

"A fair point. Full disclosure, I do have an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute." 

She covered her face with her hands in an exaggerated expression of embarrassment. "And you just let me call myself a genius, huh?" 

"I mean, for someone without an eidetic memory, I think you've done enough to be able to claim the title," he laughed. 

"You know," she teased, "bragging looks good on some people, Spencer-"

"Dr. Spencer Reid, actually. I have three PhD's." 

"As I was saying.  _Dr._ Reid, bragging looks good on some people. You aren't one of them," she winked.

"Ouch."

"I guess it's a good thing I've got a thing for doctors, then. In the philosophical sense only, of course." 

"Mm. A very good thing." Spencer was taken aback at how different Y/N made him feel. He was acting in a way he very rarely would- sort of playful. He marveled at the way she was able to bring that out of him almost immediately. 

"Hey, um," she started, the change in her tone snapping Spencer's attention back, "Thanks for this. For stopping to check on me and all that." 

"Of course." How could he not have stopped for her? "Are you feeling okay now? Talking about it can be very therapeutic, if you want, I'd be happy to listen. I mean, not happy, but, you know, I- um, if it would help-" 

"Are you sure? I mean you just met me and it's kind of a lot-" 

"I know, but, I can't help feeling like we've been through similar ordeals in our lives, I mean it may be too early to make that assumption, but-" 

"No, no, you're right. I agree. I also do. Feel it." 

"Okay," he let out a breath. "Cool." 

"Cool," she smiled back. "So, do you wanna get out of here? Maybe go for a walk, share our tragic backstories with each other?"

"You know, there is nothing I would rather do at this moment." 


End file.
